Families of New York Chapter 1
by Matthew Cooke
Summary: Tough times hit the LaBuffo family of New York. With their best earner going down, it's now up to street boss Carlo to find a replacement, before he loose his crew. -STRONG LANGUAGE/VIOLENT DESCRIPTIONS-


Ok so, basically I've decided I want to write a novel. Based on The Sopranos, I want to write about a New York mob family. For now, it is it's own story with nothing to do with The Sopranos, but I more want to receive some feedback from you guys. Eventually I'll start to tie it up with the Sopranos (Not majorly, but it would be nice as a story line or two.) If anyone has a problem with this being here, just say and I'll remove it.

Families of New York.

Chapter 1. The trial.

The New York skyline was brimming with lights as the sun began to set over the city. The chill from the winters evening left a frosty bit on the fingers of those outside. Woolly jumpers and overcoats were used to cover the cold who were leaving work to make their way home, the sound of the usual taxi horns filling the city. Screams and shouts from the vendors and street workers fought to gain interest from anyone passing, offering the latest deals on whatever shit they had to offer. Three cop cars were parked up outside the New York court, each with two policemen inside. Sitting and waiting for something to happen.

"When does the verdict pass?" Muttered one of the cops to his partner, his eyes focused on the huge doors of the court.

"No idea. You'd think they'd have fuckin' announced it by now."

One of the cops pulled a cigarette from his trouser pocket. "Well, while we're waitin'." He said, lighting it up. "You want one, Joey?"

Joey shook his head, his eyes still fixed firmly on the court doors. Surely the verdict should be past soon?

"Faggot." Joey's partner muttered as he pocketed one of the cigarettes. "I don't even understand this case, why's it so fuckin' important?"

"Seriously, Frank?" Joey said, finally turning his eyes from the court. "You're sitting in that uniform, and you don't know who Sid Manetti is?"

Frank shrugged and moved the light to his cigarette. With a small puff the patrol car began to fill with smoke.

"Open a window, won't you?" Joey angrily muttered.

"Fuck off."

"Arsehole."

Frank smirked and took a puff from cigarette.

"Those can kill you, you know."

"So can chasing a coked up Nigger armed with a shotgun down the street." Frank said, his smirk still soft on his lips. "But we still put our badges on every morning, don't we?"

"African American." Joey said hopelessly.

"Whatever. So tell me about this Donetti piece of shit and why I should be thinking about him when I bang my wife every night."

"Manetti." Joey repeatedly through gritted teeth. "-Is one of the LaBuffo Gang's best earners. Apparently the man has over ten murders that could be pinned on him." Joey's eyes moved back to the court doors. Sooner or later, the verdict will be out. Hopefully this will be the day it ends. His eyes narrowed has he watched reporters begin to crowd around the steps of the courthouse.

"Anyone would think you were giving the jerk off a reach around." Frank said carelessly, the smoke from his cigarette filling the car. Joey leaned forward to wind down the window.

"It'll be one less murderer on the street if this verdict goes the way it's looking. That's enough for me."

"Ah, at the end of the day, he's just one man." Frank said causally. "It'll never end, we both know that."

"Such a bleak look on life, Frank." Joey said, his own smirk falling into place.

"Hey, I've been doing this job for ten years and there's one thing I can count on. You put one guy behind bars, and another one pops out the fuckin' woodwork. Each with a bigger gun and a bigger dick." Frank took a final toke from his cigarette, then flicked the dead butt out the window. The dim light from its end slowly fading into nothingness, joining the rest of the trash that had been carelessly thrown on the ground.

"That sums up these pieces of shit." Frank said, his eyes on the dying butt.

"What now?" Joey asked, still not paying attention to his bigoted partner.

"They're the scum of the world. They kill, they deal drugs to kids. They don't care."

Frank turned his gaze to the courthouse doors. His smirk slid off his face has he watched the reporters talk into their microphones and stare into the camera. Their false and uncaring smiles as they commentated on the days proceedings. "Sad thing is, they probably know more than us." He said, nodding over at the news reporters.

"Everyone knows more than us."

"True."

Frank leaned back in his seat and looked across at the other streets, watching as tired and stressed workers made their way home from where ever they'd just spent the day slaving away for no reward. With a weak yawn Frank closed his eyes. "Wake me up when the shooting starts."

"Sure thing, Frank." Joey muttered as he turned back to the courthouse doors. Franks interest in the Manetti case just has non-excitant has it had been when he took his 9AM shit this morning.

"This is embarrassing."

"Shut up, I'm watchin' this."

"But fuck, they're tearing him apart."

"I said shut the fuck up."

Johnny and Phillip sat at the back of the court proceedings talking in hushed tones. It wasn't good - Sid was being destroyed. The evidence was stacking high. The two men sat watching as the Jurors listened to the evidence being given. They'd fucked up big time here. It was supposed to have been a quick job - Sid would go and intimidate one of the crews late payments, but things went horribly wrong when the guy (Some Slavic fuck) got cocky and tried to take Sid on. Three smashes to the head with a dumbbell later, the Slav was left with nothing more then a crushed skull, and Sid was left in the middle of a crime scene with the cops already on their way.

"I thought I told you to make sure Dobbs stays quiet?" Johnny muttered to Phillip, referring to one of the jurors that sat nervously at the back.

Phil leaned back and crossed his arms. "You think that would have helped? With all the other shit they got on him?"

Phillip ran a hand through his sliver hair and glanced over at the jury. Those fuckers, he thought to himself. The smug, shit eating grins on each other their faces. They'd made their decision on whether Sid was going down, the whole trial was just a sham. "I could stand up and put a fuckin' bullet in each of their heads right now." Phil said, half to himself. "If I had my gun, I mean."

"Moron." Johnny muttered as he folded his arms. Johnny was a larger man with two chins and jet black hair - The usual Mafia type. People would see him and cross the road in fear, although Phillip always said this was because there wasn't enough room for them to pass by.

"See that, over there?" Phillip said, nudging Johnny in the stomach. "Sid's family. His ma there, crying her eyes out. A fuckin' disgrace."

Johnny nodded slowly, his eyes moving between Sid and his family. His younger brother sat with his arm around his ma, trying his best to comfort her. Thomas was a dead ringer for his brother - Thin and well built with chocolate brown hair, although Tom's was slightly longer than Sid's. To Tom's right was his sister, Emily. A fucking stunner. Long brown hair that hung over her tanned face, tear streaks spoiling her make-up.

"Poor family. Must be horrible watching this."

"You said it."

"So..." Johnny started. "Who's gonna become Carlo's new top earner?"

Phil waved his hand over at Sid. "Johnny, can't you fuckin' wait until the mans behind bars."

"He's good as gone anyway."

"Watch it, you fat fuck." Phillip whispered dangerously, an angry glint in his eye.

Johnny raised his hands, feigning innocence. "I love the guy and all, but we all know how this is gonna turn out. We may as well discuss it."

"No, we don't have to discuss shit. That kind of thing is up too Carlo and Carlo only, and don't you forget that."

"You'd think I was some new kid, just getting my dick wet from the way you're talkin' to me." Johnny muttered, shaking his head at the attitude from his so-called friend.

"What du' want? A kiss and a cuddle? This is sad times, my friend, and you would do well to start fucking acting like you give a shit!" Phillip spat.

"Hey, keep your voice down. We're drawin' attention here."

Johnny and Phillip continued to watch as Sid sat in front of everyone, his hands running through his hair again and again. His eyes darted from the jury to the judge. Soon the verdict would come, it would be make or break time. Might as well cut the shit and say goodbye now, Sid thought to himself.

It didn't take long for the jury to come to their conclusion. After an hour they had came to a unanimous vote. Sid prayed to himself that something had happened. Had the boss ordered threads be put out on all the Jurors? Maybe they'd decided to give him a second chance? Here's hoping.

"You've come to a decision?" Asked the judge. Some tubby fuck called Langley.

The attention of the court turned to the main juror, or whoever she was. Sid didn't give a shit, he knew what was coming.

"Yes."

Sids heart began to pound in his throat, flashbacks of his life hitting him, again and again. His first hit with Phillip and Jackie Barone, the first coke deal and the first time he fucked a whore. It was all gone now.

"We find the defendant-"

Skinny bitch, Sid thought to himself.

Johnny and Phil leaned forward as Sid's Ma stopped crying. Everyone was waiting.

"Guilty of murder in the first degree."

"Mother fucker." Johnny muttered as the courtroom fell into chaos.

The car engine roared to life as Tom turned the ignition key. His mother had stopped crying and began to dab the tears from her eyes with a hankie. Emily sat in the backseat, quiet. She said nothing as she watched the New York nightlife, every now and again sniffing back a sob.

"I'll go see him next week." Tom said, turning the car down a corner.

Sid's mother sighed and dabbed her eyes again. Donna Manetti had been a beautiful woman back in her day, but sadly her looks had been ravaged with time. "You'd be seeing him right now if he'd been better looked after."

"Look Ma, I know you're upset, but there was nothing Carlo could have done. He would have if he could, Sid was one of his best earners."

Donna slapped her sons arm harshly, her eyes full of fire. "Don't you talk like you're a part of that gang, Tommy. I'm not having another son taking away from me."

"I'm not saying that, I just heard that's what Carlo said. I heard from.. A friend."

"A friend?" Donna growled. "What friend is this? Johnny Cinamani and Phillip Casley? I saw them at the trial today, you know. Don't think I didn't, and they're not even half as bad as some of the others. Antonio and Lucio spring to mind straight away."

Tommy put his foot down as the car roared to life once against, now gaining speed in the dead road. Almost home, he thought, although not even his bed was waiting for him tonight. His family were staying with him, and he'd had his arm twisted to let Emily and Donna sleep in his bed while he slept in the living room. Typical.

"We're almost there." He said, half to himself. He caught Emily's reflection in the wing mirror. "You gonna say a fuckin' word or you just gonna sit there looking like shit?"

"Fuck you!" Emily spat back.

"HEY." Donna shouted, slapping her hand against the dashboard. "Tonight's been a tough night for all of us, but I will not have my children talk to each other with those words!"

"He started it!" Emily whined, trying to get sympathy from her mother.

"Whatever." Tommy muttered again. "We're here."

The car grumbled to a stop outside Tom's apartment building. Like his car, his apartment was nothing to gloat about. Falling apart and dank, that summed it up. He needed to start making a bit of money and soon, before the whole house fell through the floor.

"Right, you guys in the bedroom. Not in the mood for anymore amazing chat tonight."

Tommy flopped down on the sofa, his head buzzing. Images of Sid being dragged away in cuffs flashed again and again, like a bad dream.

"Night dear." Donna said, kissing her son on the forehead.

"Night Ma." Tommy muttered through tired lips. He waited for a goodnight from his sister, but it never came. The bedroom door clicked shut, leaving the living room in darkness.

"Finally, some peace." Tommy whispered to himself.

Slowly he closed his eyes as he began to drift to sleep, his dreams filled with thoughts of Sid behind bars, begging for his life as some guy named Bubba strolled towards him, his dick already hard.

Whoever said life was worth living - They didn't know shit.


End file.
